Cradled in Familiarity
by YaoSnoozie
Summary: Voldemort is growing strong and visits Hogwarts. Severus is missing and Harry needs to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord, but he needs help. How can Harry triumph, but more importantly, where is Snape? Slashygoodness SSXHP
1. Delivering Disloyal Pets

Ok, I don't own any of these characters or places, but the rants, the story, and even the spelling errors are mine. So leave my spelling errors alone. You want them, you ask for them. I'm generous, I'll share

I really don't want to go on that -'This is my first fanfic so please be oh-so-kind'-bit...but...this _is_ the first time I've posted...but Dont' be kind I want Constructive Critisism. You see spelling errors, send'em in, I'll correct them. You see bad grammar, send it in, I'll correct it. You have a suggestion, send it in, I'll...well, I'll consider it. You have hate mail, keep it to yourself, it's a waste of time...though I may post your name behind some profanities later on...or not, I'm a busy slacker.

So Without much further adue, I hope you can entertain yourselves, and I hope I finish this soon...'cause I like it and I want to know what happens next...Enjoy

YaoSnoozie

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Cradled in Familiartiy: Chapter 1- Delivering Disloyal Pets

A day like any other. It was normal, not unusual in any way. This ordinary day was full of first years blowing up floating feathers and fourth years setting up pranks for their professors, of Filch prowling the halls for trouble and Dumbledore pilfering lemon drops, of jocks on brooms, beating each other with bludgers and book worms with literature, hiding in the library. But, for one student, this was not enough to add up to another boring, tidious, predictable day at Hogwarts. Something was missing.

"Harry, _please_, you're walking to fast." The bushy haired prodegy's hurried steps echoed in the hallway's high ceiling. "Honestly, I've been trying to slow you down since you've passed Professor Lupin's room. Are you all right Harry?"

Harry looked into his worried friend's face. 'Good old Hermione. You can always count on her to smell a secret.' Indeed, Harry was keeping something from her, and Ron as well. He had even kept the Headmaster in the dark, so far anyway. This was something that must be kept silent, not a word to anyone.

There could be consequences.

So, he settled for a half truth, "I'm fine 'Mione, just, well, edgy. Voldemort is up to something, I can feel it, but I can't do anything about it."

Hermione looked a bit skeptical, but she resumed their walk, heading for the Great Hall for lunch. 'Really, that's close enough to the truth. I'm sure that ugly git has something to do with it, and I really _can't_ do anything. I'd like to tell you 'Mione, but you wouldn't understand. I don't think anyone would.' Harry sighed, eyes on the stone floor. He was in love with Professor Severus Snape. It was, then, a good for him that Professor Severus Snape was in love with Harry Potter. But, more than that, they had been seeing each other for over a year now. Things had been going unbelievably well. They had shed their mutual dislike after Dumbledore had forced them into a Phoenix partnership, requiring them to work together on plans and missions to defeat the Dark Lord.

As Harry had suspected, after the penseive incident, Severus bore him ill will because of his father's actions. The greasy git had assumed that, like his parents, he had been born into prosperity and given to the care of adoring relatives. Harry had been quick to prove the potions master wrong, demonstrating his good will towards greasy gits time and again in his work for the Order. He had even shared a few childhood stories with the older man, though, in truth, he had been fishing for some tales of Severus growing up. And he had gotten them. They had spent many a night in Severus' dungeons, talking by the fire, sipping at glasses of red wine, and basking in good company. Everything had been perfect, until Severus dissappeared.

Snape had been officially missing for two weeks. Not even the Order of the Phoenix knew where he was for sure. 'The old candy gobbler _knows_ that Voldemort has something to do with this. Why won't he send anyone to help him.' The Headmaster had forbidden any of the Order from searching for him. Not that it was a problem for most of the members, only the boy-who-lived had protested, to himself, but protested none-the-less. In the mean time, he'd object by having an anxiety attack.

'Voldemort has summoned a Death Eaters' meeting to kill Sev, I know it. We'll find his corpse in the woods somewhere and that bloody git won't even know how much he hurt me. And Sev will die alone, that's what he hated most, being alone. He won't even know that I tried to find him.' Ignoring the Headmaster, he had searched for his pale beloved. How could he not? But there was no trace of him. He didn't even know where his partner last was or when, exactly, he was abducted. Not a bloody clue anywhere.

"Are you sure you're all right Harry, you nearly ran into that wall. I know the pesky things jump out at people, but...Harry? Are you even listening to me?"

He was not. His mind was still sifting through possibilities of death and torture, each worse than the last. He knew he was just going to start hyperventilating, then Hermione would notice and he'd have to lie to her.

"Er, no. I'm done spacing though, let's get to dinner."

'I'll just put it out of my head for now. No sense in worrying myself sick. But, if he's out there, if he needs help...'

'Mione and Harry walked through the doors and sat down across from Ron and Neville. As always, on a normal Hogwarts day, there was tastey food littering the tables and ravenous students stuffing themselves. Harry wasn't hungry at all, but, unless he consumed something, the ever-watchful 'Mione would comment and worry and observe him all the harder.

"Afternoon 'Mione, what have you guys been up to?" Ron was trying to speak around a biscuit, crumbs flying from his mouth. He was barely understandable. Neville was sipping a cup of cider.

Harry let himself slip away from the conversations again, allowing his friends to chat while he started on his brooding, thoughts straying to dark things once again. He was about to go mad. Not knowing what happened to his lithe love. Not knowing let his imagination take over the possibilities. But he couldn't let that happen, 'distraction, distraction, ah! There, Ron's making a fool of himself over Hermione again. Let's make him blush then, that'll keep my mind busy.'

Ron had been staring at certain parts of the female anatomy that 'Mione had been endowed with. Judging by the lack of bruises, cut, and other physical harm, the studious schoolmate had not yet noticed. She seemed quite captivated with picking the blueberries off of her muffin. 'She could've grabbed a banana if she doesn't like blue fruit.'

"For goodness sake Ron, stop drooling. 'Miones's muffins aren't that interesting."

His comment had the desired effect, entertainment. Hermione's head rose to glance at Ron as Ron jerked his eyes from her chest, focusing on her face. She glared. He blushed. She pelted him with the berries she had painstakingly removed. He blocked her persistant attack with a loaf of bread. Harry laughed.

Really, it was funny, especially when they were shouting, "Blueberri-ous Launch-io", "Loaf-i Gaurd-rem", and other such nonsense, he didn't know how 'Mione put up with it...unless, of course, she enjoyed it...

Before Harry could take that thought very far, he felt something strange. There was something, sort of, well-poking at Hogwart's barriers. He furrowed his brow, looking to the Headmaster to confirm the feeling. He too looked purplexed, looking around the ceiling as if he could see what was doing it, maybe he could. The poking incresed to a pounding, shaking the spells that lay in place to protect the school and its students. Several more heads popped up to looking for the cause of that strange feeling. Their magic senses were searching, trying to peer outside, trying to name the threat. Harry could feel what-ever-it-was smashing the shields, crushing them, shattering. They were gone. The Headmaster stood, no doubt about to issue orders to the student body and his staff(minus one professor). But at that moment, He appeared. And he wasn't alone.

Every student stood still as stone in their seats, disbelieving. Every eye was on the new arrivals, they couldn't look away. Like a car accident, this was too gruesome and awful to avoid. The Dark Lord Voldemort stood on the far end of the staff's table, towering over the population of terrified students. His feet soiled the spot reserved for their still-absent professor. Black robes hung from his tall frame, swirling around his leather boots, hiding his body from sight. His hair was black and mussed, like Harry's, but longer. Plastering a crooked grin on his face, he turned to the headmaster, raised one arm as if holding a goblet, and whispered words too quiet to hear.

A collective gasp was heard as everyone, ghosts and elves included, expressed their surprise. Now hanging from You-Know-Who's bruising grip was a very naked Severus Snape. He looked positively awful. His hair looked greasier than normal and plastered to his face with sweat, dirt, blood, and other vile substances. His arms were bent at angles that couldn't possibly be normal, obviously brocken and twisted out of place. Long legs were looked limp, the knees swollen and lumps of skin, caused by more broken bones, on his shins and thighs. Elegant fingers were black and curled in unnatural directions, looking as if they had too many joints. Bruises covered him from head to foot, in shades of yellow, green, violet, and, most commenly, black. There were dark finger shaped marks on his hips. There were teeth marks covering his neck and shoulders and surrounding his nipples. One shoulder was covered in the network of intricate marks made by fire. He was covered in small cuts and was dripping crimson onto the dinner table. No bit of skin was spared punishment of somekind, even the soles of his feet had been cut to shreds of skin. His lips looked torn and blue, his nose was broken and had obviously been pouring blood, one eye was swollen shut along with half his face, his jaw was crooked, his cheeks bruised and sporting abrasions. His other eye was clenched shut in pain, trying to to forget his stay away from Howarts, his treatment at the Dark Lord's hands, and the realization that his peers and students were staring at him. His students were seeing his naked body, brutalized by his master, helpless in the hands of his rough keeper. He was being presented bare, his shame on show. He was left two small reliefs, injuries left hidden from view, but Voldemort slowly curled his arm inwards, revolving Severus and stripping away the last of his protection, pride, and dignity. His face was pressed into a hard shoulder, making his nose start bleeding anew. His back now to the long tables, the last of his injuries were revealed. Long welts and bloody gashes, old and new, some leaking pus and foul liquids, covered his back, not bleeding much, but obviously painful. But the worst of all to be on display for the public was below that. Blood smeared the backs and insides of his legs, still dripping from the man's arse. He had kept himself from shivering, containing his fear and exhastion, but now, it was pointless, nothing could be more terrible that this, he had nothing left to hide behind. No worse shame left to hide

Voldemort grinned from ear to ear, pleased with himself for thinking of such an entrance. "Headmaster Dumbledore, so good to see you on such a fine evening." Yes, he was enjoying this turn of events. Finding that pesky spy had made his day. He clultched his pet closer to his chest, gently stroking his back. Even those light strokes were excrutiating. "I have not visited the school grounds since I was a boy here. How dissappointed I was to find that you had sealed it away from me." His strokes grew less careful, drawing pained groans from the horrified victim still held by the neck. "I've come to make it known that I am strong. I will not shield myself with servants. I offer you a challenge of sorts, a offer to let you 'kill me if you can.' Try your hardest--" he saught Harry out form the crowd, "--Potter." Voldemort hurled Severus to the ground and dissaperated. Severus rolled across the floor, coming to a stop on his stomach in front of the staff's table.

Dumbledore was the first to reach his fallen form, carefully bending over him. Harry was a quick second, scrambling to his feet with a cry of distress, sprinting down the Great Hall to his lover's side. He fell to his knees and put his hands on the abused flesh. He rolled him over with the utmost care, needing to see life in the dark orbs. Severus opened his one good eye and tried to focused on Harry's face, "Har-...you're, here."

Harry's vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. Seeing his partner shivering on the cold stone floor, he undid the clasp of his robe and spread it over Severus' naked form, covering him from neck to mid-shin. Harry tenderly touched his face, smoothing the hair from his blackened eye, giving a small, encouraging smile drenched in sorrow. Severus tried a warm smile of his own, slowly raising his battered arm so he could touch that beautiful face. "Harry, sorry a, about...leaving."

Tears flooded down the boy's cheeks as he leaned into the feathery carress. "I'm right here Sev. Everything fine now, I'll take care of you now. Just, just rest."

Severus tilted his head towards Harry's kind hand. He gave two light kisses to the shaking digits before letting himself relax, immersing himself in the sweet oblivion of sleep.

Harry's throat was tight. 'Well, I finally have an answer to my sweet's whereabouts. At least he wasn't on a trist.' Harry giggled, a little histerical, a little worried, and more than a little scared. 'What am I thinking, he's a bleeding mess for Merlin's sake. Dumbledore, see what happens when you cut people off from your plans you old bastard? I'm surprized this doesn't happen more often with you 'wiser-than-thou' attitude. A wonder we don't run in to each other and kill ourselevs off.' He stopped his not quite sane laughter to get to his feet.

Dumbledore had conjured a stretcher and was waiting for Pomfrey's okay to move the poor injured soul onto it. She finished reviewing her mediwitches' spells and curtly nodded, lips pressed together, trying to keep the sorrow from her face. Harry beat the Headmast to it, lovingly tracing the patterns of a levitation spell. Magically lifting the abused body from the hard floor, he focused on getting Severus safe. He'd worry about Voldemort later, right now, Sev was more important, much more important. He guided his love's supported form down the spacious halls, headed for the hospital wing, Dumbledore, Pomfrey, McGonagall, Sprout, and Hermione, dragging Ron, in tow.

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Ok, that bit's up, I've got more to work on...but the system's different...but I'll cope...maybe.

So R&R if you want, self esteem is always a good thing to boost. Or fun to crush if you're mean. Come again.

YaoS


	2. Reviving Romantic Poets

Please don't hurt me, my Angst Muse made me do it. What's a good story without bits of sadness? They'll get happy, I promise, really they will...eventually...

Ok, I don't really own these guys, but the errors are still mine, you leave them alone. You can read them over, you can tell me about them, but you can't keep them...Aw Go ahead, take 'em, I've got plenty.

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Cradled in Familiarity: Chapter 2- Reviving Romantic Poets

Silence. Silence thundered in the Great Hall. The majority of students' eyes were left on the enormous doors that Harry and company had just left. Other eyes strayed to the blood splattered table cloth of the teachers' and the crimson streak on the stone floor in front of it, both left by their feared and hated Professor Snape. Strong emotions streamed through the student body. Fear, horror, disbelief, shock. Unfortunately for the remaining instuctors, all of these hit at once. The silence shattered.

First years were wailing, looking for their upperclassmen's support. Sixth years were weeping, falling into friends' arms, trying to comfort one another. Seventh years played the stone of foundation, alaying the youngers' fears and preparing to return to the dormitories. The professors still gaped, still trying to process the events of the night. Their potions master...and You-Know-Who...and he'd just...impossible.

Whispering started, spoken fears and questions, requests for reassurement, comments on the causes of the shields failure, but mostly of Professor Snape. Few were concerned for him, only appalled that someone had taken pleasure in that, in pain, in _Snape._ Histeria gave way as students joked about it. They mocked him to relieve their own burden, nervous laughter ensueing.

"Well, we always did wonder where he went off to."

"Now we know what he was doing all those Hogsmead weekends he was gone for."

"For Merlin's sake, we could see his, his-his extremities."

"Not only is the man a greasy git and a nasty teacher, he exposes himself, in front of 1st years no less."

"Hasn't the man got any dignity, he just let You-Know-Who whatever he pleased, didn't fight a bit."

Neville gaped. How could his classmated behave like this. The man had just been tortured. 'The man is near death and all they do is laugh. I thought I had it bad with the occational snicker and his snarking at me in potions, but, but this is just inhuman. Why don't they worry, don't they care? He's still our Professor.' Neville clenched his fist and ground his teeth together in a heroic attempt to hold his tears at bay. Certainly he wasn't the most caring person in the world, but he didn't deserve this treatment from his own students. Even those from his own Slytherin house were joining in.

Seamus didn't fall in with the nervous laughter, not even to hide his own fearful expression. He could understand how they'd want to find some way to cope with the Dark Lord's appearence, but he didn't have to participate. Better they let off some tension than break down for long days were surely ahead of them. Seamus was not one to put off the inevadable. A great war was surely to follow this little show of power. 'Are we ready for this? Can we stand against him? Surely Dumbledore has a plan, a secret weapon. Maybe he's powerful enough on his own. He's got to have something, I mean, Who-Know-Who is afraid of him and all. Oh, bloody hell, where's Hagrid?'

Hagrid was trying to console a dozen second years with a hug, nearly succeeding. Students were beginning to calm, realising they couldn't all sleep in the Great Hall. Head Boys and Head Girls gathered them up, and, with the teachers' aide, started off to bed. No one expected to sleep, only to be in bed when the exhastion caught up with them. The gameskeeper coaxed the last few frightened first years into line with their friends and ran his fingers through his beard. Turning to leave, he nearly stepped on a very angry Neville Longbottom. He put a meaty hand on the boy's shoulder, "Neville, lad, we got ta' get ya' off ta' bed now. It'll all look better in tha' mornin', promise."

Neville tried to blink his tears away as he faced the gameskeeper. "How can they laugh at him like that? I mean, I know Snape isn't, well, he's not very nice, but how can't they say those things about him?"

The half giant let out a sigh. "Well, ya' know it's been a rough night for ev'ryone. Some can just handle it all better than others, see? Lad, you're one of the tougher ones, not letting You-Know-Who turn ya' against your teachers, or your friends for that matter. You're not alone, Ron and Hermione won't let this get to them. You can bet they'll be workin' hard with Dumbledore and that. Cheer up, lad, we'll make it."

Neville's mouth was open. That was a rather lengthy speech from the gameskeeper, not bad either. 'He's right, or course. No sense in giving in to them, or to Him. If Harry can fight him, so can I...I hope.'

Harry kept his wand hovering over the still form of his floating lover. With the assorted professors in tow, he led the way to the infermary. The odd footfalls of educators trying to keep up echoed in the empty hallway along with Ron's curses. The morose menagerie filed in, single line, guiding their patient's body over a standard hospital bed. Harry gently lowered Severus from the stretcher to the bed, careful not to jolt so much as a hair. Tears still blurring his eyes, he lowered his wand and stepped back, prepared to let Madam Pomfrey do her work.

His Severus looked so vulnerable, so helpless, so-so broken. 'How could I have let my Sev go through all of this alone. He looks so terrible. Oh, Severus, how can I ever make it up to you, letting you be alone with Him for all this time. Sev, love, don't leave me here.' Harry staggered backwards, pulling his arms around himself. 'I need you with me, I don't want to be alone either.' He let his tears run down his cheeks and backed into something solid, a wall. 'Please come back.'

Pomfrey was in her element. Running diagnostic spells, fetching potions, applying salves, directing cleansing charms, avoiding healthy bodies, and the talent Harry most appreciated, keeping her face neutral. But that alone did nothing to console him. The number of potions she was gathering to the bedside table was alarming and the spells were all trying to get her attention, telling her exactly how many ailments Snape was suffering from.

Dumbledore was standing at the bed's foot, reading the mediwitch's spells and raising his eyebrows. Sprout was shadowing Pomfrey, following each of her steps, asking what she could do. McGonagall stood beside the Headmaster, clicking her tongue and stealing glances at Harry. Hermione and Ron had curtained themselves off from the event. The redhead appeared to be trying to muscle his way past her. She stood her ground, furiously whispering something that made him stand still. Their conversation ensued until the brunette sighed and let her shoulders drop in defeat. 'Mione threw back the curtain and strode up to Harry. Harry remained slumped against the wall, eyes on his lover, not acknoledging her presence. She grabbed his shoulder and forced him to face her, "Harry, what is your relationship with Snape exactly?"

Harry tilted his head up enough to look at her. 'Mione took in his appearence. His eyes were wide, frightened, and full of tears, his cheeks were wet, his nose was running, his shoulders were tense, his lips were trembling, he had the most worried, terrified expression she'd ever seen, and his gaze kept straying to the unmoving man on the bed...'Surely not. He can't have...not with Snape, they despised each other. Though, they say that love and hate are seperated by a fine line. I thought I saw Snape smile at him, I thought I was halucinating. Oh! That's why Harry was so fidgity, Snape was gone and Harry couldn't go looking for him, not without everyone finding out about them. Oh Harry.' Her face softened with her realization, her iron grip melting into a supportive hand. 'Mione jumped as she heard a startled shout.

Poppy had finally turned on Professor Sprout, "If you don't stop treading on my heels this instant I will be forced to hex you into next week." Sprout was quite put off. She stood a moment, with her hands on her generous hips, then turned to Harry.

"Harry, very good of you to help us bring him down here dear boy. My, my, just look at him. Poor, poor man, just look at all that blood." Harry's stuck his bottom lip between his teeth, attempting to stifle a moan of dispair. "I can't imagine what they did to him, all that time away from Hogwarts, what an absolute nightmare."

Hermione's jaw dropped, 'of all the absolute imbiciles to talk to Harry, and she's completely oblivious too!' She stepped between Harry and Sprout, effectively, if rudely, cutting of further insensitive observations from the woman, "Harry, look at me. Professor Snape has lived through this, I doubt that he'll let himself be defeated now." Still gnawing on his trapped lip, Harry turned back towards the bed. She grabbed his sleeve, giving it a tug to emphasize her last argument. He focused his teary eyes on her determined face. "He's stubborn enough to keep on living, you know that."

'Oh Merlin, she knows. I let it slip. Our secret is out. Everyone must have figured it out because I had to run to him.' Harry groaned, 'It's not like I made a difference, I mean, Dumbledore was there and all. And now eveyone knows. Oh Sev, what have I done. What can I do?'

"Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?" Harry shook his head in quick jerky movements. "Harry, you could be going into shock, I think you should rest. Should I get you some chocolate, it's good for shock as well as Dementors, probably for the same reason. I mean, I suppose Dementors are a bit of a shock, maybe thats why-" Harry, who had been trying to follow her thoughts, swayed on his feet before falling backwards onto an unoccupied bed, "-Oh Harry! Just sit tight, don't get up."

Professor Sprout, who had been monitoring Pomfrey's progress from afar, moved to stand by Harry. "Perhaps you should get back to bed Harry, I'm sure you don't want to stay up all night with a torture victim. All this blood is going to give you nightmares." Harry looked up, face torn between confusion, sorrow, and rage. No one, especially the victim's young lover, should be informed of the blood and pain involved in torture, and certainly not when the vitim is still struggling to live. "We should get someone to contact his relatives." Another callous comment from the clueless peanut galary. The Roman's never did know excatly who deserved being lion bait. Who on earth let the woman in here. Surely someone knew she'd get in the way, that she'd traumatize the students, cause a comotion, distract the nurse.

Ron chose that moment to approach, a glower gracing his face, fists clenched and held stiffly at his sides. Ron glared down at Harry, "Harry...mate...escatly what were you doing back there." Harry stared at his friends face blankly, anguish temporarily forgotten. He had no idea what the red-head was refering to. Ron clenched his teeth as he continued, "What I mean-I meant-What the bloody hell were you doing running to that greasy git's side? What were you petting his face for?" Oh Merlin. "What the fuck is going on?" His best friend was homophobic. Harry buried his face in his hands, seeking refuge from, well, from existance. Hermione and Sprout started to scold Ron, one because of his language, one because of his heartless attitude. Ron spat back more scathing comments, officially starting a shout-off.

'Oh hell. Severus is hurt because I didn't have the courage to look for him. Hermione knows that Sev and I are together because I had to be the bloody hero, I had to be at his side. Dumbledore probably knows too. This will be sent back to the Dursleys and Merlin knows how they'll treat me now. Beatings galore, less food, more chores, insults, bruises. And Severus, Severus will be fired, I know it. The headmaster couldn't possible keep him, even if he wanted to. Kids were scared of him enough without having to add in the possibility of being snogged by Snape. And Ron...oh Ron, do you even know how much this hurts. My best mate turning on me because I like blokes, throwing me out because I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived you thought I was. Why can't you all just bugger off. I never asked you to approve of me. All I wnat is some peace and quiet...and Severus. I want my Severus back.'

Hot tears ran down his cheeks, colliding with his hands. He could hear voices. Ron, 'Mione, and Professor Sprout were in a heated argued over who was causing what disturbance and who is qualified enough to stay. Harry stood abruptly, leaving the wet streaks his tears left. He kept his head down, eyes hidden from view, and spoke, voice filled with a quiet rage, "Get out." Sprout furrowed her brow. "Get out." 'Mione put a hand on her hip and looked to Ron. Harry's hands balled into fists. His magic, his aura changed. It was forceful and suffocating. He roughly shoved Ron into the other two. All three looked disbelieving, unsure of what he had just said.

Harry's hair stood on end, his eyes burned an emerald flame. They could _see_ his magic surrounding him, dancing around him like fire. His mouth drew back in a snarl, "All of you, leave! You have no place here." He advanced, stalking towards them menacingly. "You have no right to behave like this, so-just leave us alone! Get your selfish arses away from me!" It was unheard of to see such a display of strength. Though the headmaster surely possesed such skills, he didn't show them off. The three accused were literally choking on his aura. They could feel his sorrow and his anger. They scrambled towards the door, the first wise decision they'd made yet. Harry sighed as they left, unaware of what he had done. He staggered backwards until he hit the stone wall, emotionally exhasted. All he wanted was to help his lover, to have him back in his arms, to see him laugh again. He slid down into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around his knees and hiding his face.

Dumbledore still stood at the foot of Severus bed, passively observing the boy's display. He looked to Pomfrey. She had already set Severus up on a wizard's IV, a parody of the muggles' invention, allowing doctors to give their patients potions as opposed to drugs. She had given him an internal healing potion, something to aid the recovery of injuries beneath the skin. She was just about to set the bones in his legs back to their rightful place when Harry addressed her, "His fingers first."

Pomfrey stopped and looked at the boy huddled in the corner, words muffled by his arms, "What was that?"

He maneuvered his mouth away from his sleeves, "Set his fingers first. Sev needs them to do his potions work. He'd rather be able to do potions than walk. He'd never forgive me if he had to give up his work." That wasn't exactly true. Harry recalled a sweet memory of Severus who had said himself, "_Nothing could ever make me stop loving you. Not You-Know-Who, not Dumbledore, not even you. You're stuck with me until eternity finds its resting place, forever burdened with my arms around your waist-" he embraced Harry, "-my lips on your lips-" a chaste kiss, "-my affection consuming your heart." Harry had risen on his toes to kiss the poet, "How can I resist you when you talk so pretty to me." Sev could resist no more than Harry could for he had swept the young wizard into his arms and made off to the bedroom with him. It had been one loving night of many, a cherished moment for both. _Harry smiled sadly, lowering his head back into the nest of his arms.

Pomfrey hovered over the battered legs and looked to Dumbledore for confirmation. The headmaster nodded, then whispered, "Poopy, will Severus be alright?" Pomfrey nearly gaped at how childlike he sounded. She didn't look up from her work of straightening Seve- no- her patients elegent digits. She chose her words carefully, knowing their meaning could, and probably would, hurt the man.

"He is...badly hurt. A muggle would have been killed, but he has his magic to help him protect and heal, but his magic is drained and one can only hold out so long. If he were to live, permanent damage is nearly certain. Harry has the right idea, prioritizing his injuries, we may have to pick and choose what to heal. Internal injuries are first because they're life threatening. I can't give him any other potions until those have made their way through him, but I'm afraid that the potions won't help him in time. His magic is to weak to aide him anymore. He-" She paused her work and closed her eyes, "...he may not survive this Albus."

Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and sighed, bowing his head in defeat, "I understand Poppy. Not even you can save everyone." Dumbledore gazed at Harry's small form huddled on the floor, "I only hope that we can save Harry. He seems to be taking it harder than the rest of us." He took a step towards the boy, intending to get him into his bed. Albus shook his shoulder, trying to wake him, "Harry, Harry, dear boy, get up." Harry fell onto his side. He wasn't sleeping, he was unconscience. The old wizard stretched out his hand to touch the boy's aura. Most of it seemed thin and diluted, but the nearer to his hand the magic was, the thicker it covered him. A thread of it was sprouting from his digits. He followed the thread- starting at the fingertips- through the air- angling up- and stopping where it connected to Severus. Harry was feeling his magic to Severus, giving him the strength to recover...but at what cost to himself. Giving away bits of magic was like giving away bits of your life, of your soul. You couldn't hand it over to someone without consequences, not without some sort of bond anyway. But, besides the lack of energy, Harry seemed to be fine. This was something to ponder over a cup of tea. Now that his Potions Professor had some help, he had no doubt that both of them would be fine.

Albus picked Harry up, giving a yip when his bad hip gave him a warning jolt. "Poppy, I think that if you set the rest of his bones, we can leave Severus be for the night. We should all get some rest." He carried the small form back to his professor's side, plopping him onto the nearest bed and covering him with it's sheet. If the boy was unconscience then he couldn't work himself to death. His magic would stop before that happened.

"Albus, you know I can't just leave him like this. If I don't do all I can then he'll die, he can't make it on his own."

The wizened wizard smiled softly, "Dear child, he's not alone. Haven't you noticed? Young Potter is helping him, he's replentishing Severus' lost magic. If you set his skeleton right, we can let Harry help him heal and we can get some rest. We'll have much to plan for."

The mediwitch quickly confirmed his observation and let out a sigh of relief. She frowned and gave the headmaster a dissapproving head shake for letting her worry. Dumbledore tucked Harry in, cast a warming spell on the room to keep the two from chilling, and followed Madame Pomfrey out the door.

Harry rolled in his sleep, nearly falling off the bed. He reached an arm out into empty space, searching for -something-. His sleep numbed mouth formed the word, "Severus" before he let his arm drop back to his side.

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Er...I felt bad 'bout not postin' for a while...a long while...so, even though I'm not satisfied with it yet, I'll post this chapt...Now that I know people are depending on me to finish a story, that they want me to get to work, that they need the power I hold, the power to CREATE! Whahahaha, I have the power to manipulate these characters in whatever way I want, I am-in-control. Kneel! before my awsome strength! Muwahahahaha...

Yes'sir, Yes ma'am, I'll get back to work...

YaoS

PostScript: E-mail me, I need attention, I need love, I need to know that you're not all dead. Lookin' for a Beta(sorta)Someone that I can rely on for commentary, criticism, and snacks. Well, 2 of the 3 anyway. I'd prefer a slacker like myself, so they can't complain that _I_ don't do any work...'cause I don't like to be yelled at. No one does. Words can hurt to people : (...-

Another Script Post to Chapter: Do you guys like when authors post gratitude to the commenters? I don't read 'em on others' stories 'cause I only get 1/2 of the conversation. If you want, I post stuff...or just e-mail you back...er...yeah...discuss amongst yourselves, Hope you enjoy my Fic


	3. Remebering Rectified Arguements

Kya People like it, Hooray!

A quick thank you to those of you who caught my embarrassing spelling error...Dumbledore...got itblush...but did anyone catch the quip where Dumbledore called Poppy "Poopy?", not _that_ is embarrassing...and another quick note:

Thoughts of a gryffindork:

'extremity

n 1: an external body part that projects from the body; "it is important to keep the extremities warm" syn: appendage /search?qappendage , member /search?qmember 2: an extreme condition or state (especially of adversity or disease) 3: the greatest or utmost degree; "the extremity of despair" 4: the outermost or farthest region or point 5: that part of a limb that is farthest from the torso

So An external body part that projects from the body, sounds familiar, "it is important to keep the extremities warm - Sure is - What would Harry do if Sev didn't keep that certain appendage warm?'

A fun quip before the seriousity(yes, I made that up) of this next bit of a big

So sorry I took so long, but...ano...well, it's here...I cut the chapter mark sooner than I originally wanted, but it'll all get posted eventually, right?

Have a good read

YaoSnoozie

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Cradled in Familiarity: Chapter 3- Remembering Rectified Arguments

The inhabitants of Hogwarts finally having drifted off into an uneasy sleep, Neville was left to ponder these new events. Voldemort, the Dark Lord, had broken through Dumbledore's shields. It wasn't an attack, simply a show of strength, something to entertain himself, to frighten his opponents. He wanted to flaunt his power by throwing the headmaster's spy to his feet. This surely meant that there was to be a war. Dumbledore had to act now, had to retaliate to ensure the wizarding world's safety and peace-of mind. 'Everything will be alright. I mean, I know there could be casualties, but we'll defeat him and be okay. The only ones I'm worried about are Professor Snape and Harry. Professor Snape wasn't liked a whole lot to begin with, and, even though You-Know-Who himself said he was a spy, I don't think things will get better for him. And Harry, poor bloke, he's the one that has to fight him. I don't see how he can do it, really, he's my age, he's in my classes...but, if Dumbledore is on our side, then he'll help Harry and he'll be fine too.' Even though Neville thought's encouraged him to be calm, he couldn't be. He stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, still wading through the troubles he was sure he'd have.

Harry was curled into a ball on the infirmary's mattress, sheets kicked from his shivering person, limbs strewn about the bed. He was in the world of sleep, of dreams and memories. His hand twitched as, in his dream, _he turned the page to his book. It was really quite interesting, even if it was about the properties of bits of dragon. 'I never knew that dragon's tongue could make something so...kinky. What _has_ Sev been reading?' Harry put down the informative literary work, resting his eyes, once again, on the grandfatherclock in the corner. 'Nearly four in the morning and the greasy git doesn't even owl me. He'd better have a good reason for keeping me up til this unmerlinly our, I have a quiz in herbology tomorrow...er...today.'_

_The boy who lived stood, hand raising to his mouth to cover a gigantic yawn. He carefully stretched his neglected muscles and, fully intending to give up the wait and retire, was nearly knocked to the floor by a just-flooed-in-Potions Master. Severus must have been in a rush or had forgotten how to floo straight because, instead of his usual graceful, dramatic enterances, he tumbled out of their fireplace in an explosion of soot, robes, and colorful curses. He picked himself up from the floor with a moan and grunted when an overenthusiastic student tackled him in a violent hug. "Sev! I was waiting for you, where have you been?"_

_"Get off!" Severus pushed the heavy mass of clinging flesh off his lap. Using the couch, he pulled himself to his feet and curled a hand around himself to clutch his aching lower back. He glared at the confused projectile sitting on the floor. With a growl, the gloomy alchemist stalked over to his cabinets in search of healing potion._

_Harry, hurt at his lover's cold actions, got up from the stone floor. Obviously, something had happened to him. Sev didn't need to take it out on him, but he could understand that he was in a foul mood, 'I'll just have to snap him out of it then. A little shoulder rub, a little fire whiskey, maybe a little foreplay, and he'll be good as new. Now, let's get him out of those heavy robes.' Silly grin plastered to his face, he followed Severus to his shelves of potions. He slid his hands up the coarse outer garment and applied pressure when he got to well muscled wirey shoulders. Severus yelped at the contact, taking a step away from the well intended actions. Harry jumped back at his sudden movements:"Ah, sorry, didn't know that...didn't know you had a bruise there."_

_The tall man scowled and rubbed his shoulder, "Foolish boy, there's not many places I don't have a bruise."_

_Harry narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean? How did you get hurt? Were you-"_

_"STOP! I was out doing my _job_. This, these bruises, these, these injuries,these are the norm. If you can't handle a day of cursing and grouching while I heal, then I suggest you get out."_

_"Wait just a bloody minute. It's - your - job, your job to get hurt? Who the hell is employing you to get hurt? You're not a bloody sadist's whore, what's going on?"_

_Severus went still. He prickled upon hearing the last question, "...a whore, am I? You know very well that I work for Dumbledore, that I have a dangerous occupation. You know that I try my hardest to keep your scrawny arse out of His hands but all you say is whore?" He leaned his head down, eyes scrunched into angry slits, " A student shouldn't call his professor such things, much less one lover to another. You go too far boy, and I think you'd better keep your distance from this whore." Severus, potion in hand, stormed off to the bathroom, leaving a very upset Harry in his wake._

Harry jolted awake, disturbed by his dreams, his position, his lack of blankets, and his lack of Severus. He groaned as he struggled to sit upright. He was drained, physically and emotionally, both from trying to help his Sev. His face contorted in anguish as he caught sight of his battered beloved, laying still on the bed, wizards' IV next to head, bandage wrapped limbs arranged at his sides, swollen, discolored face, yet unwashed of blood and grime, peeking from under the blanket.

Tears formed in his already red eyes. Leaving his glasses on the table, he shifted himelf on the bed until his feet touched the floor. He eased his weight onto his legs and, albait a little unsteadily, he carefully made his way to his partner's side. Settling down for sleep, he leaned forward and rested his head and arms on the bed. He stroked the only bit of unabused flesh he could find, a patch of ivory skin high on his neck. Still lost in the dream of his memory, he whispered, "Sev, come back, don't go away when you're angry with me." Closing his eyes,_ Harry slunk back to the couch and collapsed in a boneless heap, 'That, was harsh. Sure, I shouldn't even have brought it up, he's hinted at- those sorts of things, but he _knows_ what staying with him means to me. He's-my home. He took my heart, so now he's home, my first home. I haven't got any other place, he's my one and only, my, my irreplacable...' Harry's gaze strayed to the cabinet, 'He was looking for a healing potion. Oh hell, this is my fault, I should've seen him going for the pain relievers.'_

_Harry climbed to his feet again and, making a detour to snatch a bruise-salve from the cabinet shelf, walked into the bathroom. Severus was turning the faucets, adjusting the heat to his liking. He folded his arms across his chest and, as he hear the child's nearing steps, scowled at the water, determined to ignore Harry and any arguement he may bring up. To his surprise, Harry didn't say a thing. He only embraced him from behind, carefully wrapping his arms around his torso and gently pressing his face into his back. An apology spoken with the body's language if he'd ever heard it. He wasn't stupid enough to refuse him. He knew how lucky he was that the boy hadn't yet run away from him, screaming his terror. Harry stayed there until he felt the body in his arms relax. He slid his hands up to the collar of his lover's robe, gentle taking it from his shoulders. Severus stood still, letting him unbutton his waistcoat, untie his boots and loosen his pants. He gave in to stubborn affections and turned to undress the other. Harry smiled as Severus tugged at his clothing, pulling it this way and that utnil it was tossed into a heap on the floor, a growing pile of unnecessary garments. Harry rose on his toes to reach the lips of the taller, smiling into mouth he touched. He stooped to remove both their shoes before the battered man tried to. He straightened, reaching up to embrace Severus, snaking his arms around his neck and resting his cheek on his chest. Sev used his thumbs to slip his pants over his hips so they could drop to the floor before returning to the loving boy. He let his hands slide around the slender waist to clasp each other, resting on the small of his back. Harry let out a sigh of relief, contentment seeping into his flesh._

_'I could spend the rest of my life like this. Just holding him and letting him hold me,' Harry smiled and breathed in the mild scent that defined Sev, 'Sweet summer grass and coffee, I'll never get tired of that smell.' Severus shifted his weight, uncomfortable standing so still with such stiff, sore muscles. Harry sighed a warm breath onto pale skin before pulling from the tense body. He dropped his arm from corded neck to slender waist, turning him towards the tub and giving him a commanding nudge. The ebony-haired teacher let himself be herded into the steaming water, leaning his mass on Harry's offered shoulder for balance. He held his breath as he eased himself lower into the bath, the heat of it nearly burning his skin, but promising to coax his flesh into relaxing. Closing his eyes, he gave a great sigh and startled to lean back when he heard Harry clear his throat. He looked up to see smirking the boy cross his arms, watching him with laughing eyes. Giving a grunt of mock discontentment, he leaned forward, allowing room for a second person. Harry quickly climbed in behind him only to curse the water for his lack of patience. He settled himself in and leaned back, 'this would be perfect if Sev would only-' he grabbed Sev, pulling him between his legs and his back against his chest, 'better than our naked hug.'_

_Severus sighed and lay boack on the athletic chest he'd been arranged on. He let himself go limp, entrusting his body to smaller man. He leaned his head back on the strong shoulder behind him as his arms were lifted, carefully washed and put back in the heavenly heat. Harry smiled as he rid him of grime and sweat, stopping only when he'd run out of filth. Resting his hands on the bare stomach before him, he turned his lips to Severus' neck. He persistantly kissed, nipped, and tasted his graceful neck, making his way up to his ear where strand of black hit him in the nose, 'Ug, his hair...not just greasy from potions work, there's blood and dirt and who _knows_ what else. Oh Sev, what does he make you do.' Harry carefully adjusted Severus' position, arranging his limp limbs to wet his hair. The submitting man grunted as his head was slowly let under the water, warmth creeping up his scalp, hearing obscured into a peaceful deafness. He nearly purred when the boy started running his fingers along his scalp and through his hair. He felt the lightness of his floating hands, sitting on the water's surface. He faintly tasted his lover on his lips, the brief touch still sweet from his drinking hot chocolate. There was the smooth texture of the young skin he rested on and the smell of fruit and flowers from the shampoo being lathered for his tresses, but the strongest sense he experienced was love, the tender affections and sweet thoughts of the boy who cradled him, washed him, and cared for him, cared _about _him. Nothing could compare to the gentle touch of those loving hands washing his hair, trailing down his cheek, _stroking his neck. 'Oh Merlin, it hurts.' Severus woke up to find himself staring at a strange, bleach white ceiling, unable to move his head without hurting himself. He was in pain, he ached, from hair to toes, skin to bone, his back felt as if it were burned with ice, his hands were sore, fingers were being crushed by the weight of their skin. He could feel the shredded soles of his feet, the torn skin he had _inside, _the bite wounds on shoulder, neck and chest, the welts and rips on his back. After laying immobile in a minute of agony, he could feel something else, something that tickled. He slowly, slowy turned his head to the side to find Harry, head resting on his arms, hand stretched out to pet his lover. Memories of the past weeks and, more recently, of Harry's distressed face trying to reassure him and Dumbledore's damn beard nosing into his injured well being.

'Harry, Harry, what would I ever do without you? There's none that would do what you do for me, stand with me as stubbornly, comfort me as sweetly, laugh with me, cry with me, love me. Only you would be so foolish to choose me as you have.' His brow furrowed, painfully disturbing his swollen eye. Feeling a pulling need to touch the boy, Severus lifted his arm, grimacing every inch it traveled. He manuevered it under Harry's free hand, palm up, and curled as many finger as he could around the soft warm flesh. 'Harry, you've been absolutely wonderful to me and I can't thank you as many times as you deserve, but you need to be in bed. The Dark Lord has shown everyone that he is strong enough to attack at any time. You don't have time to lounge around with greasy old men, you'll wake up sore sleeping as you are. Besides...you... you still have a promise to keep. You remember, don't you? That first night you caught me and looked after me. I can yet recall every word you said, every pitch of your voice. Though I never told you, I heard everything that night and I will hold you to your word. It is one of the few promises you've made that I will take seriously.' Severus sighed, feeling the strain of his body healing. He let his eyes fall and welcomed the sleep that had not claimed the rest of Hogwarts. A deep sleep full of peace and comfort, not worried by nightmares or harried by thoughts of the war to come.

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A sweet little memory to help with the present horror, don't you think? I wanted to have the next bit on with this chapter, but I didn't want to prolong the wait, so you get it earlier than I though you would. Anyway keep coming back, I'm not going to quit yet-

YaoS


	4. Whispering Warrented Promises

I was feeling a bit guilty about not getting this chapt out...well, months ago, but then I remembered: I don't get paid...yes, that's right. I'm giving you Slashy, Snapey yaoiness out of the goodness (or maybe naughtyness) of my heart (smut-loving-ness?). Anywho, enjoy the late-lemony-love-fest...--I'm still sorry

...I'm not so sure of the quality of my smut...but I can give you some excellent recomendations, some absolutely suberb erotic(w/ plot...sometimes) works...in the meantime I'll strive for such

-YaoSnoozie

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Cradled in Familiarity: Chapter 4- Whispering Warrented Promises

The two men soaked in the steaming tub long after they were clean. Harry, eager to get on with his make-up-with-Sev-plot, said,"Sev, we're turning into prunes. Hard boiled prunes."

"Irritating brat. If you're so keen on escaping, then by all means, leave."

"I'd love to, but you're on my chest and you're heavy." Harry squeezed his thighs together to press into his lover's waist. Severus snorted and used the knees to heave his lax body out of the water. Harry jumped to his feet, hopped onto the tiled floor, and snatched a fluffy green towel (darn color-coordinating Slytherine). Said Slytherine tried to find his wand in the pile of discarded clothes without stretching anything too sore too far. Harry, already dry even if his hair was a fluffed disaster, offered the towel.

"Charms are faster, more efficient, and kinder to hair." Having found his wand, Severus demonstrated.

Harry frowned, "Then why do you even have any towels?"

"They match the decor."

Harry smirked, "Of course. How silly of me." His lips softened to a fond smile as his eyes lingered on the taller man. His mind turned to dirty thoughts, as it often did looking at the bare skin, the flat stomach, and lean, muscled thighs before him. He took the wandless hand in his own and led him out of the bathroom, "Come to bed Severus." The color coordinating Slytherine did as he was bid, rubbing soft circles with his thumb to show his appreciation of the lustful gaze and sweet invitation.

Severus' bedroom was bare of furniture, but it was inviting. The thick carpet was dark green. A cool color, but it was warmed by flecks of gold and soft threads that tried, as Harry walked, to cover his feet. The four poster bed, head board pushed against the far wall, was covered in thick emerald sheets. Square black pillows were scattered across the bed and floor. They lay where they were thrown in the night when one of the sleeper's grew irritated with its satin coushiness (or when they intruded on...other activities).

Harry manuevered the backs of Severus' knees against the bed and gave him a little push. Sev smiled and pulled him up into his lap. Happy kisses were exchanged, interrupted by their quiet joyful laughter and toothful smiles. Harry ended the exchange by burying his face into the hallow his lover's broad shoulder. He spoke around the warm flesh, "Before we make a lovely mess of our bed let me take care of your bruises."

"If you wish." Severus wrapped his arms tight around the unsuspecting boy and rolled them both to the center of the bed. Harry retaliated by pressing the cold jar of bruise-salve against his bare stomach. Ignoring the following gasp, he unscrewed the cap and lay it next to the jar. He dipped his fingers into the goo and leaned over the still body beneath him. Sev closed his eyes and sighed as warm fingers massaged his battered body. He felt the knots in his muscles, the ones even the bath had failed to remedy, slowly loosen under persistant fingers.

Harry sat above him, slowly smoothing in the salve. He kneaded Severus body, smoothing shoulders, chest, and arms to lay limp on the bed. At each wound he wondered who had made it, who had marked his beloved, blemished his perfection. He frowned then moved to better reach Severus' legs. He loved Severus' legs. They were long and sexy, toned calves and powerful thighs. He despised the robes that hid them almost as much as he hated whoever had marred them with blood and bruises.

Finishing the front, he helped his slothful lover to his side. "Most are not as bad as they look." Harry glanced at the raven haired head. Some of the injuried were indeed just slightly miscolored skin, but there were two black blotches on his side just below his ribs and a nasty looking abrasion near his left knee. There were very mysterious marks crawling over his shoulder too. He hadn't a clue as to what wouldn't made them.

Harry sealed the jar and dropped it onto the sheets. He slid his arm around Severus' trim waist, "You'll tell me if I hurt you, if something is sore?" Severus whispered his compliance and covered Harry's hand with his own. Harry smiled and leaned over him, "We'll just have to be a bit more gentle then." He bent down until their lips touched.

After a bit of tongue probing Sev reached up to pull him closer, pressing him into his wonderfully angular torso. Harry brought his hands past Sev's slender neck, snaking his fingers into the long hair. He ran his tongue over Severus' teeth and flicked it under his palate. Severus ran his hands over his back, down to his buttocks, and around to his chest before playing with his nipples. Harry gasped and mirrored Sev's smirk. Eyes glued to the pale flesh, he lowered his mouth to his collarbone. His head and hands moved lower to touch Severus' chest and stiffening member. He started a trail of hickeys just below his pectorals curling up to a hard bud of flesh. He nipped it.

Severus breath hitched. He stopped Harry and manuevered them both into sitting positions, himself leaning against pillows, Harry kneeling over his lap. He retrieved the forgotten salve and coated his fingers in it. He circled his partner's entrance. Harry curled his tongue around Severu's ear and drew the lobe into his mouth. He groaned as he was penetrated, clinging to Sev's neck, demanding his lips give him entry. He complied, giving Harry free reign of his mouth as he pumped another finger into his warmth. Harry squeeked as the delving digits found a spot inside him, splattering his vision with white streaks. He tightened his grip on his beloved's shoulders and, incidentally, on his wounds. Severus yelped and jerked away as pain shot through his arm.

Harry slapped a hand to his mouth to hide a sympathetic hiss, his eyes wide with concern, "Merlin, Sev, are you alright?"

Severus carefully tested his mobility by wiggling his fingers and wrist, but left his arm limp, "If I move anything above my elbow, it's worse than the dark mark, but otherwise, naught but a nagging ache." Harry's face scrunched in guilty regret. That made Severus feel guilty, "If you were to take lead of our...play, I think I'd live, perhaps." He grinned. Harry growled at the sarcastic remark. If he was well enough to tease, he was well enough to 'get some.'

"I'm glad your sense of humor is intact. I couldn't live without your wit." Harry used Severus' own slick fingers to prepare him. He growled again before aligning his lover and slowly lowering himself onto his lap. His inner muscles quickly accepting the stiff flesh of his lover. Severus rubbed small circles into his lower back with his good arm as they both struggled to catch their breath. He leaned his head against Severus' neck and panted into his good shoulder, hot breath moistening his skin. With his ear next to Sev's mouth, he could hear the pain in his voice, a whimper between his gasping breaths, his teeth click together as he tried to stiffle another yelp or a scream. He was far more hurt than he was letting on.

Stupid prat. Stupid for putting on such pretenses so he wouldn't worry his overprotective little lover. Stupid for dragging the charade on so long. And stupid for...well, for having to be the big, strong, intimidating protector he tried so hard to be. They really would have to be especially gentle tonight.

Harry loosened his grip on the slender neck and levered his weight off Severus' sexy legs. He lifted himself up until Sev's member nearly left him, then went down, swallowing it again. Sev's turn to moan. He tried to thrust up, matching the pace, but Harry stopped him with a glare and a hand on his chest, "Just let me...ah! Leave it to me Sev. You - just sit back and enjoy...don't hurt yourself."

Severus, a bit startled at being caught hiding his pain, leaned into the pillows and watched Harry impale himself on his erection. Harry was hot inside, hot and soft and inviting. His skin was slick with sweat, nearly glowing in the dim light. His eyes were closed, lost in pleasure, his hair stuck to his forehead, masking his scar. His mouth was open, breathing quick and heavy. His hands were just barely resting on Severus' toned stomach, careful not to hurt him. He put his hand on Harry's hip, urging him on.

Harry let one hand drift to his own weeping member, grasping it, stroking it as he was filled. His breathy moans grew louder. He opened his eyes and bent towards his lover's waiting mouth, plundering it, praising it, swallowing it's own pleasured gasps. He leaned away as he felt the nearing edge of orgasm, but Severus pulled him back. Harry's screamed his lover's name into his mouth, spilling his seed over his hand and his lover's stomach and chest. Severus quietly groaned as he spent himself into Harry's body. The kiss, salty from the sweat of their strenuous activities, ended as Severus pressed his forehead to Harry's chest. Harry brought his hand up to cradle the back of his head. He leaned away from him and slowly worked his body up and off Severus flacid member. Sev sat back, limp, trying to find his breath. He pulled Harry down next to him and wriggled down from his sitting position onto his back. Harry's hand fumbled about the bed until it found Severus', palm up, a boneless heap.

They both lay still, panting, hand in hand, waiting for the energy-sapping afterglow to leave. Harry recovered first, being younger and not battered, and propped himself up on an elbow, "You said you'd tell me if I hurt you." Severus kept silent. "Don't keep things like that from me Sev, I don't like it. I want to know when you're in pain, so I can help. I don't want you to go sneaking around with a broken leg or hiding a missing arm, so just - just tell me when you're hurting." Harry's voice dropped to a sad whisper, "I want you to trust me Sev, so...next time..."

Severus brought Harry's hand to his lips, "I'm sorry love. I won't keep such secrets anymore." He paused to smile, "You'll know of every bump, bruise, and sliver." Harry glared, but kissed him anyway. He dropped back to the bed, staring at the ceiling. Bloody git...infuriating. He should've said something, should've told Harry. Why did he have to act so tough? Yes, he was strong, everyone knew it, but no one is strong all the time. Everyone gets hurts, needs to rest, needs to rely on someone. He wanted Severus to rely on him. He loved that Sev wanted to protect him, but he wanted to return the favor.

He _needed _to return the favor. If Severus were ever gone, Harry didn't know what he'd do. He couldn't live without the man, without his rare smiles, his common snarls, his humor, his lips, (his hips)his love. Harry needed it all. He would be a hollow, empty mess if Severus weren't there to fill him. He'd just be a machine or a weapon, Dumbledore's weapon, running on autopilot. Why couldn't he understand how important he was?

Harry turned his head, watching Severus' chest rise and fall with his slow, even breaths. He looked so peaceful. His face was so serene, entirely relaxed. He looked perfect...except for the bruises, but they did invoke that protective feeling. They made him more vulnerable. They seemed to make Severus for ask things that he would never voice. "Hold me. Keep me safe. Take the pain away. Shield me. Don't let them get me. Don't let them hurt me again." Harry felt guilty. He let them get his Severus. He spouted all that junk about wanting to be trusted, but he really couldn't do a thing to help him. He wasn't strong or smart enough to defeat Voldemort and the Order needed Snape to put himself in danger to save others, many others, innocent others that'd never even heard of magic or wizards or Hogwarts.

Harry curled into Severus side, sliding a hand across his chest and burying his face in the hallow of his shoulder. He spoke, barely loud enough to be a whisper, "I can't promise you brave things like 'I won't let them hurt you again' or 'I'll take you away from it all.' I'm not powerful enough, but I can say this one thing. I'll kill him, I swear I will. I'll make them all regret it, doing this to you. One day, I'll stop him from touching you. I'll do everything I can. I'll protect you as best I'm able until then...and after...and always." Harry sniffled back a tear, his eyes feeling hot. "I promise Sev." He clutched Snape closer and eventually slept.

Severus sighed. He curled his sore arm around Harry's sleeping body and ran his fingers through his hair. His own voice was as low as Harry's, "I know you will Harry." He closed his eyes, "You've made me a lot of promised before, but I will hold you to this one. I know how serious this is to you, so don't fail."

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...so...I've got 20+ fics going...this is the 1st of many YaoS works...maybe I'll snowball& start posting more often? I sure hope so...'nother movie I'm off to the midnight showing. Oooh! That's why I waited! A special event! Celebrate with trashy smut...I wonder where I'm going with all of this...

-YaoS


	5. Winning Widespread Allies

cough…bet you all missed me, right? Well…see…I went abroad and didn't have access to a comp, just a notebook. So, I'm back, I'm writing, and I'm full of ideas…I just hope I can squeeze them into words that make sense and flow perdy-like. I was happy to find comments, views, favorites, and alerts.

So, once again: I'm terribly sorry (truly) and please, please, enjoy

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Cradled in Familiarity: Chapter 5 – Winning Widespread Allies

Hermione looked at the clock and sighed. 'Five hours I've been here. Five! And I haven't found it yet. Research has never taken me so long before...I could be loosing my touch.' The kindhearted witch had sped off to the library after being kicked out of the infirmary. Not only was it the most familiar and reasuring place she knew, she also had a few facts to look up.

'Of course, I could take this as good news...But I need to confirm it. How can I do that without the proper references?' Hermione groaned in frustration. She'd never wracked her brain so much in one night, not even during the testing weeks, though this time there were outside factors contributing to her mental state. Ron was being a stupid, stubborn, small minded git, her teacher had just been tortured so horribly that he might not survive the night, and her very best friend was going through the most terrible things a person could go through; seeing a loved one hurt and not being able to help. Ah yes, also the Dark Lord has issued a challenge that could be the beginning of the death of all things good...she'd skipped dinner too. But it was Harry that she was in the library for, not Ron or Voldemort or potatoes and beef.

Inspiration struck. "Dumbledore." 'Mione whispered aloud in the empty sanctuary of silence. 'He'd help. He would know every rule that Hogwarts ever concocted. I have to find him.' With that, 'Mione stood up, closed the book she'd been banging her head against, and left her papery sanctuary.

Dumbledore sighed as he leaned back into the softest armchair in his office. He popped a lemon drop into his mouth and set about turning it into a sweet aftertaste. He was just about to summon an elf for some tea when a very ruffled looking Gryffindor popped her head into the doorway.

"I'm sorry for intruding Headmaster, but I'm researching something and I desperately need your input." She was a little breathless and wasn't carrying a single book. This was a first. She kept her inquisitive eyes on his as she asked again, "Please sir, its really important and it'll only take a moment."

Dumbledore smiled gently, "Of course. I'll always be happy to offer any assistance I can for a student in need. Lemon drop?" Hermione shook her head and thumped down in the chair across the elder wizard. "Now, what could you be looking up as such a late hour after such a strenuous day, Miss Granger?"

Hermione leaned forward in her chair as if to better hold his attention, "I need to know about some of Hogwarts' rules. I mean, I want to make sure that a rule isn't being broken by something that's happened. I can't find anything in 'Hogwarts: A History,' but they do tend to leave some of the more minute, flighty bits of it out."

Dumblodore's lips quirked up. He'd thought that he'd be the only one to stand with his two Phoenix-mates, but perhaps young Granger was the start of a trickle of loyal friends who would leak from the woodwork. Perhaps they wouldn't have as hard a time as he had earlier predicted. "Ask away my dear, I'll answer anything I can."

Hermione smiled a bit, pleased with the kindly reply, but still worried over the fate of her friend. She took a breath and hoped for the best, "Is there anything prohibiting relationships within the school? Anything at all?"

The Headmaster templed his fingers and leaned back into his chair, "Hmm, there is nothing beyond the normal wizarding law. If anything -sexual- is involved, all parties must be have sixteen years on their shoulders and all must consent, but anyone may love whomever they wish. The problems only come in when families or friends object. The law doesn't interfere with the heart's passion, it is too great a thing to constrict."

Hermoine sighed, expelling her worries in a great breath. That was a mighty weight taken from her chest. She couldn't wait to tell Harry. "Thank you, Headmaster. This has been very helpful, I can't thank you enough." Hermione stood and made her way to the staircase, but stopped before descending, "Ah, sir, we _do_ still have protections from, from Voldemort, don't we? I mean, we're not just newborne lambs waiting to be killed."

Dumbledore smiled. She was more worried over her friend's love life than her own life. Maybe students still had enough trust in their professors to let themselves be guided. "When Hogwarts was founded by the Four and set up with a number of wards, they were created to last. Voldemort hasn't broken a single barrier they placed, he has only skirted around them and broken one single ward that had been more recently set. We'll have to have a more in depth conversation another time, but I'll tell you now that it took all he had to summon Severus to his hand and escape unscathed. Any longer and the wards the Four set up would've started to tear his magic apart. Now, it's getting late, grant an old man some rest before the dawn comes."

"Thank you again Headmaster, I'm sure everyone would be relieved to hear that. Good night."

Poppy sighed again as her shoes tapped loudly against the stone floor. She couldn't sleep, not even a wink. She could hardly even close her eyes. So, instead of wasting time laying in bed, she was on her way to her beloved infirmary to watch over Severus and Harry. She knew that Harry's magic _should_ keep the potions master alive and healing rather quickly, but she couldn't bring herself to leave them alone without a healthy adult to monitor their progress. As she was in such a hurry, Poppy nearly ran into the Headmaster who'd been locking his office. Rather startled, she blurted out, "Headmaster! What are you doing up at this hour?"

The wizard chuckled, "I think that, given my age and seniority, that I could prowl the halls at whatever hour I please. Of course, one would think that getting some rest to prepare for tomorrow would be a good idea, but I couldn't seem to sleep, not even with a glass of warm milk and a plate of the house elves most delectable cookies. Now I'm trying to walk the thoughts out of my head with a visit to our new patients."

Madame Pomphrey nodded at the Headmaster's words. It was _just_ what she had done, even the milk. She let out a great sigh and pushed a stray lock of hair from her face, "I know what you mean. I still feel like I have a mountain of things to do, but my head can't grasp what they are. What I _do_ know is that I have two of ours to watch after. I thought that if I could assure myself that at least _one_ thing was done, I could sleep." With another sigh, they started of again, in step.

The two professors stepped into the infirmary, keeping quiet out of habit rather than trying to keep from waking anyone. Pomphrey went straight behind the privacy curtains to check on the two lone infirms. Albus followed at a more leasurly pace.

The mediwitch pushed back the faded blue cloth to reveal the Boy-Who-Lived only to find an empty bed. She started for a moment before a patch of unruly hair caught her eye. Harry was slumped in a chair at his teacher's side. She clucked her tongue and moved to check them. Albus meerly watched from an empty bed.

After a few while, Pomphrey turned to the headmater and let out a shakey breath. She smiled, "He is healing. He'll live and he'll be able to work and walk." She raised a hand to her head to steady it from its euphoric floating sensation. With a laugh, she went to rumage through her cabinets to ready Severus's next batch of potions. Albus sat quiet, clearly deep in thought. So quiet and deep in his thoughts, Poppy nearly forgot he was there.

"What do you think it is, Poppy?"

She looked over her shoulder at him. "What do I think what is?"

Albus got to his feet and went to the sleeping pair. "The bond between these two. When you form an emergency bond with another to feed them magic, as it were, the thread creates marks, holes, in both people. Neither of them have any such thing. Not only that, but when I first checked the boy, the thread was coming from his right index finger. Now it has moved to his left palm. Emergency bonds do not migrate."

Poppy gave Albus a long look as she thought Albus's shared deep thoughts. Then she gave the sleeping boys a long look. Harry's pulsing thread of magic was indeed coming from his palm, making a straight line to Severus's heart. Severus's heart. She stiffened. 'No. No, that can't be possible. Severus is…he's him, the dark, moping ice prince. He…not with Harry. He's been harrassing the poor boy since he got here. Severus knows better than to-' Poppy looked at his broken body, motionless beneath the sheets. Motionless, but not unmoved.. Severus's hand was bent at the elbow, his fingers curling under and around Harry's hand. Harry wouldn't have moved him, would he? And Severus had been unconscious, hadn't he?

She brought it to the wizard's attention. "I know Poppy, that's what made me ask." She frowned, but turned back to her work.

Albus moved to pet the young boy who was so willing to help another. 'So someone has finally tames our great potions master. I had hoped to bring you closer together through the Order, but this rather exceeds my expectations.' Hand still on the caring child, he smiled at Severus. 'I hoped you would find someone, someday. I had always worried that you would put off looking for a partner until after Voldemort had died. It seems you are smarter than you look friend.' He took his hands back into his robes to clasp.them. 'Over the months before he was captured, he had been looking better fed and was noticably less snappish. Probably Harry's doing. And Harry stopped drifting during class, staring as if his mind or sould had already left his body. Probably Severus. They are good for each other. And, if I'm not mistaken, they look as if they'd fit together quite nicely.

'Looking at it now, I can see how it could have happened. They have…similar backgrounds. Once beyond Severus's issue with James, they could certainly relate, and possibly even understand each other. They both have the burden of saving other, saving strangers by offering themselves up instead. They both have such big hearts, but never let anyone see them. Ah. My poor boys. I only wish you would have found each other earlier.'

Albus turned from the two to verify what his mediwitch knew, "Poppy, you understand what it means?" She nodded. "You are…not opposed to this?" She ducked her head and took in a quick breath and held it.

"…no." She whispered. A little louder, she said, "No, its their decision. I've got nothing to do with what goes on between them, its their business." She raised her eyes to meet the headmasters, defiently, as if she expected reprisal. "I will support them, if they let me. They're obviously good for each other, or Severus wouldn't be healing as he is."

Albus slowly nodded, "Yes, I agree. But you realise that others will not see this. They will see only what they wish to see, what will benefit themselves." He took a deep breath, already preparing for the 'attack.' "Will you help me protect them? I mean, will you help me help them?"

Poppy slowly turned her head to the lovers on the bed. Yes, _lovers_. She looked at the battered body Severus had used to protect the world. She saw the longfingered hands that played over cauldrends as he worked. She saw the face of non-anger he bestowed upon the best of his students, the children he taught. She looked at the boy who was alone too early and too long. She saw the way that Harry's face looked just as pained as Severus's as if he shared the same thoughts, the same body.

She turned back to the headmaster, "I would defend either of them to my death and I would defend the both of them, what they have found in each other, with more."

They hoped they weren't alone it the thought.

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This chapter was a bit shorter…but they're all sort of short…and this is me getting back into a story I haven't solidified (thought of often, but not solidified).

I hope to keep up with this better than I did before my break. (Short a/n too, but hey, I'm feeling somber…not to be confused with sober ;;)

YaoS


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